


About An Alpha

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha!Dean, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Angst, De-Aged Dean Winchester, Drama, F/M, Fighting, Knotting, Marking, Smut, break-ups, moc!dean, relationship drama, rough smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:36:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21937546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: Set during “About A Boy”. Dean returns to the motel room and his Omega doesn’t know how to react to having a suddenly teenaged Alpha.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Reader
Kudos: 158





	About An Alpha

Everything was quiet, except for the tick-tock of the hideous clock on the motel room. There must have been an outlet specifically for pay-by-the-hour motels where everyone got their accessories because Y/N was sure she’d seen that clock a thousand times before.

Dean and Sam left hours ago to scope out the case. She didn’t know where either of them were and couldn’t get them on their cells, which was increasing her panic with every passing minute.

So when the door opened and Sam walked in, Y/N was on her feet in seconds, crossing the room to him. Her sensitive nose picked up something heady and floral; she stepped back, scrunching up her face at the smell. “What is that?” she asked. “And where Dean?”

“Yarrow flowers,” Sam replied, holding out a small bunch of the little yellow petals. “I couldn’t find Dean. I think he’s been transfigured somehow.”

“Transfigured?”

“Yeah, like… turned into something else.” He pushed past her, smiling his reassurance. “Don’t worry, we’re gonna figure this out.”

“Yeah,” Y/N mumbled, walking back to the bed and sitting down on the edge of it as Sam dug around for his laptop. “How long has he been missing?” She sighed, shaking her head. “I knew I should have gone with him.”

“He’s only been gone for a couple hours, Y/N. Besides, if you’d gone, then you’d both be missing and that’s just more of a headache for me.”

There was amusement in his tone but she didn’t see the funny side of it. Laying back, she stretched out, the ache in her belly reminding her of why they shouldn’t have taken the case in the first place. Dean was confident it was a milk run, a ghost or a ghoul.

Of course it would be something new and weird to boot.

Sam’s fingers rhythmically tapped at the keyboard, searching for the yellow flowers he’d found. The scent of them was filling the motel room, not entirely unpleasant but not an aroma she’d be able to stand for too long.

He sat up, frowning at the screen and for a second, Y/N looked over at him, remaining in her spot on the bed. “What?”

The knock at the door made them both fix their attention on the door. Sam grabbed for gun, cocking it back as he put himself between his brother’s Omega and the door. He approached slowly, reaching out with one hand to throw the door open.

Y/N gasped, realizing who it was as soon as she scented him.

Sam lowered the gun, staring at the young man in confusion. “Yeah?” he asked, expecting some sort of inane enquiry.

Smirking, the kid looked up at him. “Hiya, Sammy.”

The realization dawned on Sam’s face almost comically and he stepped back, swallowing as he regarded his changed brother. “Dean?”

“Yeah.” Teen Dean calmly entered the room, his eyes on his Omega, stunned where she stood at the foot of the bed. “Hey, babe.”

Her mouth opened and shut, her gaze following him as he bent down under their bed and dragged out his duffel bag. If he was aware of his captive audience, he didn’t say anything. Y/N looked at Sam, holding her hands out; he only shrugged.

“W-wait a second. Y-you’re a -”

Dean didn’t look up from the gun in his hand. “Uh-huh.”

“How?”

“No clue.” He unloaded his gun, checking the clip before reloading it. “Some scarface-looking dude, bright light.” His fingers were almost too small against the weapon as he cocked it, giving Y/N an inappropriate smirk. “Next thing I know, I wake up looking like Bieber.”

Sam shook his head, utter confusion on his face. “Why would someone turn you into -”

“Don’t know.” Dean slid the gun into his pants. “Don’t care. Hey, we got any grenades?”

“What?”

Both Y/N and Sam were just as confused as each other but when Dean picked up his bag again and started to walk toward the door, Sam snatched a hand out, barring his way. “Don’t. Wait, wait, wait. Wait a second. Talk to me. Talk to us.”

“Really, Sam?” The teen glanced back at Y/N, arching an eyebrow in a way that was exclusively Dean. “Now? I got no grass on the infield, and a girl’s gonna die.” His expression became apologetic as he looked at his Omega. “Sorry if I’m not in a chatty mood. Look, you wanted me back in the game. I’m back in the damn game.”

He seemed to be in a rush, and Y/N wasn’t about to let him out of her sight. Despite the fact that he was now half-a-foot smaller than her, he was still her Alpha according to her instincts and the earlier worry about his whereabouts hadn’t been forgotten.

Satisfied she was following, Dean fixed his determined gaze on his brother. “Come on.”

He left the room first, heading for the Impala, detouring when the old lady at the bottom of the steps dropped her motel key and cussed softly under her breath. Y/N loitered in the doorway, feeling Sam behind her, watching as Dean jogged over to her.

“Well… Ma’am, allow me,” he insisted, bending down to retrieve the key. The woman’s face was a mask of shock as he handed it back and nodded, moving swiftly on to the Impala parked across the lot.

Sam frowned at the look on Y/N’s face, his confusion only exacerbated when the old woman congratulated them both on such a polite young man for a son.

“Er, thanks?” Sam mumbled, taking Y/N’s elbow and leading her toward the car, hurrying as if he could escape the weird.

“Our son?” the Omega repeated, disgust in her tone. “Sam, this is friggin’ weird.”

“You’re telling me,” the hunter grumbled in return, opening the back door and waiting for her to slide into the car. Meeting Dean’s gaze over the top of the car, Sam hesitated, wondering if the passenger seat was such a great idea. “Where are we heading?” he asked.

“Tell you on the way,” Dean huffed back, sliding into the driver’s seat. As Sam settled beside him, Dean stared down at the pedals in dismay, reaching down and gripping the seat lever. Sam’s knees were instantly crushed against his chest.

“Okay, okay,” Sam grunted, placing his hand against the dash as Dean kept fiddling with the lever. “Hey, hey, hey, hey.” Dean stopped, glancing at him, as if only just realizing what he was doing. “Wait,” Sam murmured, “uh… maybe I should drive?”

To say the teenager didn’t look happy about that was an understatement and Y/N could see the turmoil on his face. But he knew, logically, they’d get pulled over and he was in a hurry.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, opening the door.

“Okay,” Sam caught his arm, still trapped by the dash. “Seat. Seat. Seat.”

Dean rolled his eyes, pushing the seat back before climbing out. He swapped sides with Sam, slouching into the passenger side as his brother pulled the car out of the lot. Turning his head to Y/N, Dean flashed her a smirk. “Least I get to be closer to you,” he whispered, reaching over to take her hand.

She smiled weakly, unused to the soft touch. Dean’s fingers were usually calloused, rough; she liked that. These hands were unmarred by years of lighting matches, digging graves or shooting guns. “Yeah,” she whispered, giving his hand a quick squeeze before sitting back.

If he was hurt by the action, he didn’t show it, opting to fill Sam in on exactly where they were going and what was happening. Y/N sat back, keeping quiet as they chatted back and forth, trying not to focus on how different Dean’s voice was or how his scent was the same but not.

This was super creepy.

“Cake. Why would they give you cake?” Sam asked, pulling her back to the conversation.

“Well,” Dean paused, shrugging, “don’t know. It wasn’t even good cake. Too dry.”

That made Sam laugh and for a few moments, the car was silent. Dean was on his phone, the light casting an eerie glow against the windows and when he looked up to check on Y/N, he noticed Sam was staring at him.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Sam replied defensively, receiving a disbelieving glare from Dean. “Okay, not nothing. Look, this is bizarre. Even for us, Dean. This is insane. You - you’re like - what, you’re like 14? How does it even feel?”

That was the question Y/N wanted to ask. What did Dean feel? What if he was stuck like this? Did that mean she was suddenly without an Alpha? She was pretty sure them being like they usually were was illegal however you spun it.

“Well, I’m me. I’m - I’m old me, but I’m a kid. It’s freakin’ weird, dude. And…”

His cheeks were darkening when he looked back at Y/N, then to Sam, chewing the inside of his lip like it was a dark secret he was about to spill.

“What?” Sam prompted.

Dean looked down at his knees with a heavy sigh. “There was a Taylor Swift song on the bus that I hopped to the motel, and, uh… I liked it, Sam. I liked it a _lot_.” Y/N managed to cover her laughter for the most part - Sam remained stoic, staring at Dean in confusion.

“Okay.”

“My voice is weird,” Dean huffed, shaking his head, “and I’ve got like nine zits.” He wouldn’t look either of them in the eye, his fists curled in his lap. “And I have zero control over this.” Gesturing to his crotch, he missed the suddenly horrified look on his Omega’s face. “I mean, it’s up. It’s down. It’s up for no reason.”

Sam looked a little sick. “That’s enough,” he groaned. “Yeah, thanks. Uh,” he cleared his throat, giving Y/N a worried look in the rearview, “let’s just call it puberty.”

“Yeah, which sucks. Again.” Dean folded his arms across his chest, sliding further down into the seat. “You think I’m gonna have to go through presenting all over again? That wasn’t fun.” He leered at Y/N, winking as she continued to smile weakly and sit quietly. “At least I won’t have to go lookin’,” he quipped.

She didn’t find it funny and the atmosphere in the car grew a little thicker.

“Well, listen,” Sam started, realizing he needed to change the direction of conversation. “I checked out the alley where you got jumped, and I found yarrow.”

“Which means what?”

“Means we’re probably dealing with a witch. Yarrow’s a flower. They use it in a ton of spells.”

“Okay,” Dean nodded, leaning one arm on the window. “We still got some of that witch-killing crap in the trunk?”

“Hell, yeah,” Sam grinned. “So, we’ll get you changed back, and then light Sabrina’s ass up. Right?”

The expression on the boy’s face twisted and this time, he wouldn’t look at Y/N, making her stomach churn uncomfortably. “Uh, yeah, about that. It turns out, this whole freak show has an upside.” He reached for his sleeve, dragging it up to show his brother the bare unmarred skin beneath. “The mark is gone.”

It was a miracle Sam kept the car on the road and Y/N turned her face away, trying not to let them see the start of her tears.

“How?” Sam asked, his voice a whisper.

“Well, I figure if this hoodoo slammed me back into the body I had when I was 14 -”

It wasn’t hard to figure out. “You didn’t have the mark then.”

“Yeah,” Dean mumbled, “and if we reverse the spell -”

“Then it’s gonna come back.”

“That’s what I’m thinking. So… maybe we don’t.”

Y/N’s head shot up and Sam looked at his brother for a long minute. “Wait a second. Are you saying you want to stay like this?”

“No!” Dean defended, sighing as he looked back at his Omega, finding her refusing to meet his gaze. “No, but… if it’s between being a psycho rage monster borderline demon or a teenager, well…”

“Really?” Sam didn’t sound like he believed him but the more Dean thought about it, the better it sounded. They’d been coming up against the Mark and the consequences of his demonhood for months, most of the problems too close to home.

He’d only just made it up to Y/N for ditching her and fucking _cheating_ and now this happens?

Sighing, Dean shelved away his relationship problems, focusing on the bigger picture. “Look, I’m not a fan, either, but… Sam, this is problem solved. And I’m still me. I can still hunt. I’m just, you know… dewier.”

“Okay, look, y-you have a point, kind of, but, dude -” Sam was looking at Y/N in the mirror again, although she refused to look at either of them. Dean picked up on his direction, his stomach thick with nausea as he looked at his Omega.

“I know,” he admitted quietly. “Some good news, though - virgin liver.” He grinned, trying to focus on the positives. “So, what do you say when we’re done doing our hero thing, we take her for a test-drive?”

“Yeah, sure,” Sam scoffed. “I mean… you can drink again in, what, like seven years?”

“That’s not funny.”

“Can we stop?” Y/N piped up, her voice strained and Sam glanced back. “I need a break -”

“Sure,” Sam whispered, giving her what he hoped was a friendly smile. She looked miserable, sitting in the backseat alone and it didn’t need a genius to know why. Dean didn’t say anything, although he looked at the time on his phone. “We’ve got time, Dean. Besides, we’re almost outta gas.”

The rest stop was miles from civilization but seemed to be pretty busy with truckers and passers by. Dean immediately darted off for snacks and the bathroom, complaining that he hadn’t eaten since earlier and he was, after all, a growing boy.

Again.

Y/N went to the restroom, returning far faster than Dean did, stepping up to the opposite of the car to where Sam was filling the tank. “You guys should go on ahead,” she insisted, shoving her hands deep into her pockets. “I’ll hitch back -”

“Nope,” Sam cut her off. “You’re not hitching anywhere.”

“Sam -”

“Y/N, you’re an Omega who’s about three days from heat. Dean isn’t going to stay like this,” he promised.

“And what if he does?” she demanded. “Do I wait for two years, hope the heats don’t kill me? That I don’t go feral? Or shall I go find an interim Alpha?” Her face was thunderous, her emotions shining in the color of her eyes. “He’s _gone_, Sam. That kid… that kid is _not_ my Alpha.”

“You don’t know that,” Sam defended. “And I can’t let you go. It’s not safe.”

“I’ll make sure my ride is Beta,” she shrugged. “I have a gun, I know how to use it.”

“Y/N -”

“I get in the way on hunts, Sam.” Her tone was soft and pleading. “But if Dean stays this way, I can’t be around. I can’t… I’m forever gonna be twice his age and that’s not fair on anyone.” Stepping back from the car, she moved around to the trunk, popping it and dragging her bag out. “I’ll be okay. I’ll go back to the bunker and wait. If you don’t succeed -”

“We’re gonna.”

“I can’t,” she squeezed her eyes shut, tears falling down her cheeks. “Sam, I can’t. If this is gonna be it… then I’ll take the painless option.”

Dean was emerging from the shop now, a bag full of goodies in his arms as he chewed on a red vine. “Y/N,” Sam begged quietly. “He’s gonna be lost without you.”

She sniffed, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. “He’s got his whole life ahead of him. Literally.” Giving Sam a sad smile, she turned away, ignoring Dean’s shout, keeping her attention on the cafe. One of the Impala doors slammed and footsteps stomped in the dirt behind her.

“Hey!” Dean called, frowning when he finally caught up to her. “Y/N, what -”

“You need to go, Dean,” Y/N insisted, not stopping until he caught her hand and forced her to. “Dean -”

“You can’t leave us,” he pleaded, the sound of his voice so much more plaintive at the higher pitch. “Y/N, you can’t leave me. You’re my -”

“Don’t,” she whispered, her heart breaking as she tugged her hand out of his. “I’m not, Dean. You’re not… you’re not my Alpha anymore.” His expression crumbled and her heart broke a little more. God, it hurt too much to even look at him.

“You’re not leaving,” he snapped, his anger getting the better of him. But no matter how much he raised his voice, the Alpha command wouldn’t work. It couldn’t.

“You can’t stop me,” she replied sadly. She wanted to hug him, tell him she was sorry, because she was. Even though it was his decision, she understood and she hated that more than anything. “I’m sorry, Dean. Take care of yourself.”

He practically whimpered her name, more emotion on his face than she’d seen in years. Backing away, she turned, disappearing into the roadhouse.

Sam’s footsteps crunched into the dirt behind him. “Dean?”

The teenager hesitated, assessing the building as if it were a threat. “Should I go and talk to her?” 

“Do you think it’ll do any good?”

Dean’s mouth set into a thin line. “We’re running out of time to save Tina,” he pointed out, turning back to the car “She’ll still be here,” he muttered to himself, and Sam paused before following him.

They had to save the kid. The other kid. Dean would have to figure out what to do after that.

Y/N sat in the roadhouse for another thirty minutes, staring out the window at the spot on the horizon where she’d last seen the Impala’s tail lights. She couldn’t believe it was happening, after everything they’d been through, within a few hours, it was done.

Dean would get a second chance at life. He deserved it, she was sure of that. But where did it leave her?

_Alone again. Naturally._

Huffing into her soda, she tried to decide what to do next. She could hitch back to the bunker, get her things and go - there was no guarantee she’d get back before the boys did and she was working under the assumption that Dean wasn’t interested as they’d sped off pretty quickly after she left them.

It hurt. More than anything had ever hurt before.

They were only a few miles from town. Maybe she could get a ride back there and hotwire a car. Give her a good start on a new life. Not that it was much of a life when one was an Omega that had dropped off the grid for five years.

Dean got his second chance.

Y/N didn’t want one.

Finishing the soda, she surveyed the bar occupants, trying to figure out which of the huge men was Beta and which were Alpha. Spotting a portly gent who wasn’t much taller than she was seemed to be her best bet and she approached with a downtrodden look, brandishing her last twenty bucks.

“Excuse me?” she asked quietly and the gentleman turned to her, blinking in surprise. “Are you going back toward town?” Holding up the twenty, she waited and the middle-aged guy smiled in a very friendly manner.

“As it happens, I am,” he replied. “And you can keep your money, sweetheart. Whereabouts you headed to?”

“Just the bus station,” Y/N informed him, sliding into the seat next to him. “I’m not in a rush though, just whenever you’re good.”

“You eaten today?” the man asked, genuinely concerned - she nodded, lowering her bag to the floor. “I’m Grimm. Nickname,” he explained, holding out a hand that Y/N took and shook firmly. “Let me finish my drink and we’ll head out. It’s only a thirty minute drive.”

“Thanks.”

Grimm, named for his stern face, was a friendly chap who actually lived in the town. He worked at the garage behind the gas station, fixing up trucks as they came through. It was sheer luck he was the first Beta she’d sniffed out. He didn’t pry into her life or try and dissuade her from running; if anything he was just worried that she’d end up somewhere entirely unpleasant.

The drive back was nice, a little bumpier than the Impala was. Grimm’s truck was practically ancient but it ran well, a testament to his skills, Y/N supposed.

Before they’d reached the bus station, she’d come to a decision. The sun was beginning to rise over the horizon and she hoped that the Winchesters had saved the other girl. It was likely she would never find out but as she wished Grimm a happy life and her thanks, Y/N felt a small weight lift off of her.

She never wanted to hunt. And the last few months with the Mark of Cain and Dean being a demon… it had been tough. Things were never smooth running with them, with the life… maybe she could find something to make her happy without the pain.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N waited for Grimm’s car to be out of sight and then she started down the street. Once upon a time, she wouldn’t have needed to steal a car but she didn’t have the money for a bus ticket.

Ten minutes later, she was behind the wheel of a 2007 Camri, driving it carefully down the street toward the city limits. By the time she crossed the county line, the sun was above the horizon and somewhere behind her, a fully-grown Dean was bursting into the cafe, finding his Omega gone.

Y/N wasn’t sure if she’d intentionally driven in the opposite direction to the bunker. Her phone died somewhere before she’d crossed the state line and the gas in the stolen car was running lower and lower with each passing mile.

She couldn’t stay in a motel with only twenty bucks and she’d always left the credit card fraud to the brothers.

Pulling over into a truck stop, she parked the car up as far away from anyone as she could, locking the doors. Rolling up her jacket into a pillow, Y/N curled up on the backseat, tucking her body into as tight a ball as possible.

She’d been awake for nearly twenty-four hours and she was exhausted enough to ignore the chill in the air and doze off. The tiredness was bone-deep, leaving her without dreams, twitching on the leather upholstery.

When the door was suddenly yanked open, it woke her and she shouted, instantly fighting at whatever was coming for her.

Dean - full-sized Alpha Dean - leaned in with his hands either side of the door. Y/N blinked at him with a mixture of surprise and fading terror, clutching her chest. “Now, if I tell you to get in the car and come home -”

“You’re… you’re -”

“Big again?” he provided and she managed a nod. “Yeah. And don’t think we ain’t talking about those things you said back there.”

Indignation and irritation replaced every other emotion; she scowled at him. “How the hell did you find me?”

“GPS still works if your battery is dead, sweetheart,” Dean drawled, glancing over his shoulder. “You gonna get out of the car?”

She lifted her chin, regarding him coolly. “You were gonna leave me.”

“I wasn’t going anywhere,” he snapped. “You’re the one who walked away.”

“You weren’t an Alpha, Dean!” she cried, kicking out in frustration. “What was I supposed to do? Wait around until you finished puberty? Spend the rest of our lives being looked at funny because I’m bonded to a frickin’ kid?”

“It wouldn’t have mattered.”

His insistence made her grind her teeth. “It would have. Sooner or later…”

“Sooner or later, what?” he demanded.

“Does it matter?” She sounded defeated as she spoke, sliding out of the car. Dean stood back, out of her way, closing the door when she’d picked up her back and jacket. “Also, the car was locked.” Gesturing to the damage, all Y/N received was a dry look.

“It’s stolen. And about to be abandoned.” He pointed at Sam, sat in the Impala a few yards down the road. “Come on. You can sleep on the backseat.” She hesitated, making his entire expression turn to stone. “Y/N -”

“We need to talk about this. About everything.”

The stony look in his eyes didn’t waiver. “We will. When we’re home.”

Y/N swallowed, holding his gaze for a few seconds before she nodded slowly. “Okay.”

The bedroom door shut with a definitive click, blocking out all the light from the hallway. Standing with her back to the door and the Alpha who’d closed it, Y/N let out a shuddering breath. She didn’t want to talk about this anymore. It had been bad enough sitting in the car, none of them speaking the whole drive back.

Sam had gone to his bedroom the second he’d walked in and she had done much the same, a small part of her hoping Dean wouldn’t follow.

But of course, he was pissed, so he was gonna.

“How did you fix it?” Y/N asked, hugging herself.

Dean didn’t move from his spot by the door. “Does it matter?”

“Is the Mark back?”

“Yeah.”

She shivered and a second later, she felt Dean right behind her, his scent tickling her nose as he placed his hands on her shoulders. “Dean -”

“Do you wanna leave me?” he asked, cutting her off.

“No!” she defended, turning to him with wide eyes. “No, I -”

“Then why did you?” His tone was full of hurt and accusation and for a moment, she saw the same emotions on his face that had been there when he was de-aged. The full spectrum, open and honest, but it was gone all too soon. “You took the first chance you could, you didn’t even - you weren’t gonna say anything to me!”

He was louder now, the anger coming out in full force but Y/N didn’t step back or flinch. It wouldn’t be the first time Dean shouted in her face because he couldn’t convey himself properly.

Placing her hands on his chest, she pushed lightly. “You were a child.”

“I wasn’t gonna stay that way,” he pleaded.

“You were,” she scolded. “I’m not an idiot, Dean, and I don’t blame you for making the decision. It would have been safer for everyone. But if I stayed, how would you feel when you couldn’t protect me because you weren’t as big and strong as you were before? When you had to watch me suffering through a heat and couldn’t do anything?” His face twisted with grief at the thought and Y/N knew she’d made her point.

“We’ve made it through before,” he attempted, “and there were options.”

“What options?” she asked quietly. “Let another Alpha fuck me through the heats?” Dean growled abruptly and she smiled at his reaction. “You wouldn’t have been able to stand it.”

“I would have,” he murmured sadly. “No more than I deserve.”

“Don’t,” she begged, turning away from him, still hurting over his betrayal. It had been harder than hell to forgive him, even though she knew it wasn’t him. He’d been a demon, a twisted, dark _thing_ \- not her Alpha. “This isn’t about that.”

Dean ran a hand through his hair as he stared at her back, unsure what to do or say. He’d been prepared to stay a kid for a little while, just to avoid the Mark; Y/N had been second to that and he felt shittier than he thought possible for the way he’d assumed she’d be okay with it. “I’m sorry,” he said finally. “It was a shitty situation to put you in.”

“It was a shitty situation for everyone involved,” she replied, lifting her chin and turning her head just a little to look at him out of the corner of her eye. “Not that the one we’re back in is any different.”

As if sensing it was the subject of conversation, the Mark throbbed on his arm but Dean ignored it, letting his mind focus on the scent of his Omega, days away from heat. He breathed through his nose harshly, inhaling again to smell her better.

“We’re gonna figure it out,” he murmured, like he was reciting a line from a play. “We always do.”

“Yeah,” she whispered, not sounding like she believed him at all, tucking her chin into her chest and hugging herself again.

He couldn’t stand seeing her like that. Of all the shitty things that had happened in his life, she was the only thing he didn’t regret in the slightest. “Y/N.” Stepping forward, Dean struggled to put the words together, to tell her how much he appreciated and loved her, to make sure she knew that she was it for him.

Y/N turned, reaching out with her hand to cup his cheek. “I know,” she assured him, seeing the truth in his eyes, feeling it in the bond they shared. “Why do you think I’m still here?”

Dean didn’t wait any longer, pulling her close and crushing his mouth to hers. She responded, sliding her hands through his short hair. His fingers spread over her ass, pushing her back toward the bed without letting go, almost dragging her feet along the ground. They dropped together, tearing at clothing in their eagerness to touch each other, sending buttons flying from his overshirt and tearing the collar of her t-shirt.

As soon as she was bare, Dean rolled her underneath his body, lowering his mouth to one pert nipple. The warmth of his mouth made her moan; Y/N grabbed his arm, right over the Mark, and Dean growled, blunt teeth scraping over her skin. She cried out at the sudden burst of pain, pouting when he lifted his head to look at her.

“Too hard?” he panted.

“A little.”

Smirking, Dean turned his attention to her other breast, taking more care this time. Pinned beneath him, Y/N couldn’t do anything except writhe and mewl, finding her arms held down by his wrists when she moved too much. Meeting his gaze, she was a little stunned by the intensity in them, surrendering to the bruising kiss that he bestowed on her.

“Don’t ever tell me,” he snarled, “that I’m not your Alpha.”

He moved, pulling back and grabbing her hips, manhandling her onto all fours. Within warning, he pressed a single finger into her, forcing a tiny cry from her lips. Y/N clutched at the pillows, the angle effectively trapping her where Dean wanted her.

“You’re fucking dripping for me, Omega,” he purred, adding a second finger. “I can smell how close to heat you are.” Scissoring his digits roughly inside her, the Alpha grinned when she whined and wiggled her ass. “Desperate for a knot, huh?”

She managed a nod, gasping into the pillows when he abruptly withdrew, shoving her legs apart with his knees. Pressing the blunt of his cock to her entrance, Dean held steady, watching with amusement as she tried unsuccessfully to move back against him.

With a low chuckle, he granted her silent plea, sinking the first inch of his shaft inside her. The sound she made was his reward, although he almost lost control feeling her warmth surround and squeeze him tightly. Gripping her hips, it took only a gentle roll of his hips for her body to accept more of him, although Y/N still struggled against him, begging for more.

The control was his and Dean intended to keep it.

Keeping his hands on her ass, he shifted, lifting one leg so he could straighten his back and watch her body take every last inch. Y/N couldn’t move - not that she wanted to. Her tears soaked into the pillow underneath her head, her hands clawed into the fabric. Dean’s penetration was slow and agonizing; he didn’t stop until he was fully seated inside her, the head nestled tightly against her cervix.

She let out a low moan, hiccuping a sob when his cock twitched.

“That’s it,” Dean praised, running his hand over her ass, admiring her completely stuffed pussy. “Takin’ every inch like a good little Omega.”

He pulled back, eyes locked on the slick coating his shaft, easing his slide back in. It was easy to fall into a rhythm, mesmerized by the sight of her, _his_ Omega.

She’d remember it by the end of the night.

Dean growled, still angry at her earlier words, his emotions fueled by the mark. He slammed into her, each stroke growing harder and harder until she was screaming. Her ass moved back to meet him, forcing him deeper, his knot already thickening inside her.

“Gonna cum,” he warned, dropping his knee back to the bed, hauling her up so he could get at her throat. “Gonna remind you who you belong to.”

Y/N’s cunt was almost sucking him in with how wet she was - he hadn’t even bothered to keep track of her pleasure, caring only about what he needed to prove. His balls tightened and his knot stretched her open, forcing a wail from her throat as it popped and locked inside.

Dean tasted blood when he sank his teeth into her throat, obliterating his original mark. In his hold, Y/N tensed, then went completely limp, her head rolling back against his shoulder. Blood slicked a path down her chest, pooling where Dean held her underneath her breasts.

When he released her throat, his heart was hammering. He closed his eyes, dragging his tongue over the wound, nuzzling into the spot below her ear. “You’re mine,” he whispered, “and I’m yours.”

She nodded listlessly and Dean smirked, lowering them both to the bed without jostling her too much. His cock throbbed, still sensitive and still rock-hard - his orgasm had only taken the edge off. But he knew she needed a break. He hadn’t exactly been gentle.

Already, he could see bruises forming on her hips and thighs where he’d pulled her around. Her throat was angry and red, the fresh wound seeping blood; Dean felt a slight pain of guilt before the pride of seeing his mark on her throat overtook it.

“Get some sleep,” he murmured, burying his nose in her hair, closing his eyes as he inhaled some sleep.

“Yeah,” she managed, barely a whisper. Her eyes were already closed.

Their problems weren’t over. It was likely they never would be. But she was there, with him, and Dean would do everything he could to keep it that way.


End file.
